


A Glint in the Jungle

by crabapple



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Absolute Trash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crabapple/pseuds/crabapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gladiolus has dreamed of this moment for years. Unfortunately, nothing ever goes as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Glint in the Jungle

**Author's Note:**

> I made a deal with my friend. I write it, she draws it. Self imposed prompt of "Gladiolus is hunting while shirtless, and Ignis shows up dressed like a Mayan god." Please don't take this seriously.

The air was thick with humidity as Gladiolus deftly made his way through the jungle. Brightly colored, tropical birds swooped through the overhanging trees, their calls screeching in his ears. He gripped a large spear in his right hand, and his chest was bare to try and combat the oppressive heat. He narrowed his eyes and scanned the foliage for signs of his prey. He’d been following the trail of a rare, white panther for a few days now. He was certain that he had almost caught up to it. If he returned to the capital with that great beast strewn over his shoulders, he was sure his name would become legend.

He took a few cautious steps forward. He made little noise as he walked, despite his size. He parted one of the nearby ferns and smirked when he set eyes on his prey. A crystal blue pond lay beyond the ferns and resting on a rock overlooking the pond was the white panther. Gladiolus had heard countless legends about it. The great cat was sent by the gods, and only a magnificent hunter could kill it. He had marveled at the idea of being that hunter since he was a child. The panther wasn’t as pure white as legend made it out to be. Its front paws were silver, and Gladiolus could swear that the fur was shining in the heavy, green light of the jungle.

The panther dosed peacefully, and Gladiolus saw this as his chance to strike. He stepped from the ferns and began to slowly stalk forward. He set a sure foot on the rock and raised his spear high. He’d have to strike fast and hard if he wanted to end this quickly.

The panther opened one eye, and the sight of the light blue iris sent Gladiolus’ heart racing. He plunged the spear down in a desperate act. Stone met stone, and a snarl rang out in the jungle.

A heavy weight collided with Gladiolus. When he regained his senses, he found himself face to mouth with the cat, its breath filling his nostrils. He was surprised that it wasn’t foul smelling. In fact, it smelt a bit like mint.

He pulled himself from his foolish thoughts to realize that the panther hadn’t torn his throat out yet. It turned its head downward so that Gladiolus was staring right into its eyes.

In a flash, the weight of the panther shifted to something much lighter. Instead of the unnerving irises of a cat, Gladiolus met the gaze of two human eyes. A man was lying on top of him, and he was smirking smugly.

“You’re different from the usual thugs who pursue me. You almost caught me by surprise. Not many can manage that.”

Gladiolus’ mouth was gaping open in shock, and the man who was once a panther reached forward and closed it. He was wearing gaudy silver gloves, and Gladiolus had never seen anything so ridiculous in his life.  

“I really should kill you, but I feel that it would be an incredible waste.” The man glanced pointedly down at Gladiolus' chest and slowly smoothed one gloved hand over it.

Gladiolus finally found his voice. “Are you a god?”

“A god?” The panther-man raised one eyebrow. “I have to say, I rather like the sound of that.”

“Or are you a demon?” Gladiolus roared as he regained his wits. The man was much smaller than him, and it was a simple task to throw him off.

The panther-man laughed as he landed gracefully next to the pound. “A demon? No, I’m just a lowly shapeshifter who was attempting to enjoy a late afternoon nap. Which you rudely interrupted.”

The man was wearing strange white clothing that was covered in copious amount of white feathers. Some were even sticking out of the top of his head. He slowly paced around Gladiolus, a terrifying glint in his eyes. This was not how Gladiolus had pictured this would play out. He’d either defeat the creature or be killed by it, not be harassed by a panther-man with silver gloves. Gladiolus scanned the ground for his spear, but it was nowhere to be found. He raised his fists, instead.

In one swift motion the man transformed again, and Gladiolus had to dodge out of the way of the snarling cat. The second lunge was too quick for him, and he was knocked into the pond. The panther’s weight held him down in the water, and Gladiolus gulped down a breath of liquid.

The panther jumped off of him, and he surfaced, hacking up water. Uproarious laughter greeted him as he caught his breath.

“Oh, I like you.” The panther had changed back into a man. He sat at the edge of the pound, his legs mostly submerged by water. “How about we come to a truce? I don’t kill you, and you don’t tell anyone about me being more than just a cat.”

Gladiolus fought to regain his footing on the uneven bottom of the pound.

“We can seal the deal with a kiss,” the man continued on blithely as Gladiolus slipped and fell back into the water.

Gladiolus’ head broke through the pond’s surface, his long, wet hair covering his face. “W-what?”

“Yes, I think a kiss would do nicely.”

Gladiolus was easily hefted up out of the water by a strong grip on his forearm. His wet hair was parted by glove-clad fingers, and he was face to face with those two blue eyes again.

“Well, what do you say? You won’t tell radical new stories about me, and, in turn, I won’t tear out your jugular.” His smile was sharp, and for the first time in many years Gladiolus was deathly afraid.

He had no fear of dying in a glorious battle, but the thought of choking on his own blood, abandoned in the jungle, terrified him.

“It’s a deal, as long as you let me go unharmed.”

The panther’s eyes glinted. “Just as planned.”

Gladiolus’ lips were assaulted with a kiss that was more teeth than anything else. The panther bit down on Gladiolus' lower lip, and the taste of blood filled his mouth. Before Gladiolus could react, the man pulled away.

“Ignis,” he whispered.

Gladiolus licked the blood from his lip. “What?” he demanded as his face turned crimson.

“My name. I do believe we’ll be meeting again, mortal.”

Ignis turned away. Gladiolus reached out to try and stop him and get an explanation, but his hand passed through nothing. In a flash of light, Ignis was gone. All that remained was a single silver glove floating on the surface of the pound and the blood on Gladiolus’ lips.


End file.
